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This is where you start learning about revenge

The Revenge Guy knows all about revenge and by reading these articles you will too.

This is where you read revenge stories about dating, boyfriends and girlfriends

People that have been dating have written in to ask The Revenge Guy for advice so they can get revenge on ex friends, boyfriends and girlfriends, that are now exes, for obvious reasons as you will soon read.

This is where you read revenge stories about work life, bad bosses and bad businesses

People that have jobs write in to ask The Revenge Guy for advice so they can get revenge on their workplace, businesses that have done them wrong, as well as revenge on people they work with.

Revenge Stories

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Dear Revenge GuyDear Revenge Guy,

I was behind on my rent so my best friend at the time, offered her storage shed to me so I could put my belongings in there, in the event of a soon to be eviction. While getting settled, (moving, etc) she and her boyfriend went through all my things and sold off all the good stuff at a swap meet. I confronted her and she blamed him wholeheartedly and said she had no choice but to make room for his things. 

The plan was launched, I said nothing, I played along! I flirted shamelessly with him whenever she wasn’t around and eventually we decided to “rendezvous”. She was working the night shift one Friday evening, and we rented a room! I sipped only very slowly the bottle of liquor and he eagerly chugged it down and eventually I had him drunk with booze and with my seduction. He was passed out naked on the bed when I took off my black lacey bra and slipped into the pocket of his jacket. I quietly exited out of the room and raced back home. 

There were many voice mail messages from her on my machine, crying hysterically looking for her beloved boyfriend.

The next day was hiroshima as she discovered the bra in his jacket and called me for support – it was all I could do to stifle laughing in her face!

I never talked to neither of them ever again afterward. I had what I wanted! hah hahhaaa

It all started about 9 months ago when I was just a customer at one of my favorite bars in town. The bartender was a beautiful busty blond who would sit and talk to me for hours as I drank beer. She would always give me most of my tab for free, and I would in turn always tip her $20. We has many very deep and interesting talks about life, past drug abuse, and everything else you could imagine. During this spirited conversation the fact that she was in a 5 year relationship came up.
I was let down, but didn’t count myself out of the race quite yet. I have been with many girls who have boyfriends. Rule of thumb, do not fall in love with them. This went on for about a month until one day she asked me to give her a ride home after work. I had been enamored with this girl so I jumped at the chance.

We decided to go to one of the bars that was open later than her bar and have a few cocktails before I dropped her off at home. Of course her boyfriend was out of town for the week visiting family. We laughed and drank and played pool and darts. Everything was going so great that we closed the bar down. I was taking her home and she asked if I wanted to come inside and watch a movie. One thing led to another and we ended up sleeping together. Apparently we really liked each other and this continued at least 3 times a week for the next 6 months.

It got to the point where she was sleeping at my house more than her and her boyfriend’s apartment. She was always with me, and actually took my on a week long vacation to meet her parents who live on the beach. I woke up one day and realized that I loved this girl. She told me all the time she loved me, and actually broke up with her boyfriend for me. (of course he had no idea any of this was going on. (denial is a powerful thing) He knew they broke up, but had no idea she was cheating on him for the past 7 months.

Well, she ended up feeling horrible about it and wanting to make things work out with him again. She slowly stopped talking to me over a one week period, and then stopped all responses. I knew it was my time to strike. I had gotten her boyfriends number out of her phone for just such an occasion. I sent him text message after text message on his cell phone describing in graphic detail what his precious girlfriend and I had been doing all along. I sent pictures, and video clips to his phone as well. (and these were not pictures any guy would want to see of his girlfriend) I was admittedly very drunk that night, and about as bitter and angry as I can get. I was all but in a rage. She called me and used every expletive known to man. She sent me text messages about how evil I am and how horrible of a person I can be. I sent some very threatening messages back to her. (in retrospect, a horrible idea) The very next day she went to the police with her phone, and her boyfriends phone. I was in the process of being charged with sexual harassment for the pictures, and domestic dispute in regard to the threatening comments I made. Luckily for me I was moving all the way across the country before they had a chance to arrest me.

They have since broke up and she actually started being very nice to me again. She said it took all of this to realize how much she liked me. As I type this she is on her way across the USA in a plane to visit me for 5 days. This will be the first time I have seen her since I told and showed her boyfriend everything. I ultimately win in this situation because I not only broke them up, but she is coming to see me and sleep next to me.

Revenge was bittersweet. In retrospect I would not have made threatening comments or sent pornographic images to his phone. I would have simply told him what happened with enough detail to make them break up. Now I can’t go back to that particular East Coast state for 1 year. After a year there will be no more charges or warrants on me.

Many moons ago I had a opposite sex (male) best friend. I used to give said best friend, call him Mike, advice on how to handle his love life (we were young and still learning). I resisted his periodic attempts to convert our friendship into something else because I liked him too much as a friend and didn’t want to screw it up with additional expectations etc..

Well, eventually poor judgment got the best of me and an affair was hot. It went along swimmingly until he decided to join the Navy and see the world. I was invited to his graduation from boot camp (if that’s what the Navy calls it), and traveled three states away with his parents in order to attend. Not long after, he had 2 weeks leave and returned to our hometown. Upon our joyous reunion he presented me with a mini Navy insignia ring on a chain to wear around my neck. We were in love.

But as the leave progressed, I realized I was only seeing him every other day. Odd. Odder still was the fact that Mike’s male best friend (Ron) lived two houses down from me and I wasn’t seeing him there. No matter, I was young, hormonal and extremely naive. I enjoyed the time we had.

Mike ships out. I get a call from Ron’s girlfriend, Samantha inviting me to a party. I start to decline because of school obligations and she gets this very intent tone of voice, and said “You really ought to come”. Being the intuitive person that I am (except when it comes to males who may wish to abuse my affections) I understand this is a command performance and attend the party.

I am no sooner in the door than she shoves me in the direction of Mike’s most significant ex saying “You two need to talk”. And we talked. Eventually Samantha joined us and let us know that she had been cheating on her boyfriend (Ron) with his best friend (Mike). All three of us had identical necklaces – the Navy ring/necklace. We all desired blood, but that hard to do when your intended victim is sailing the seven seas.

Our solution was simple, elegant and classy. We took the three identical necklaces, put them in a single envelope and mailed them to the boy. No letter, nothing but the necklaces.

That was the end of my contact with him. Unfortunately, one of us was not so fortunate. He tracked me down about 20 years later, why? I’m not sure. But in catching up with each other (I had to, I was curious and expected some karmic payback to reveal itself. Maybe it had.) I learned that he and Samantha had married. And that she later died of a drug overdose. Too bad, she was a nice girl and had done two other women tremendous favors in exposing the S*B. The drug thing was not something I ever would have suspected of her. Gotta wonder what her life was like to use that many tranquilizers.

Now, before I share a second story, let me say this. I love revenge.
I have a vividly twisted imagination. Regrettably, it is chained to a conscience. So (as I go through a divorce) I may think of soaking my soon-to-be-ex’s backpack in gravy before he goes hiking in the Smokies, but I can’t bring myself to actually do irrevocable/serious harm. Things that ARE revocable are fair game. So, story #2.

Second loser up on the roster is Larry. Larry was everything that made a girl’s parent’s shudder and light a candle at church.
Divorced three times, a heavy drinker twice my age who drove cars that needed frequent attention and no license to go with them…you get the idea.
But charming, very charming with a skill for spinning believable lies. Towards the end of an on-again, off-again relationship that lasted FAR too long, it became quite clear there was another woman in the picture. Either he didn’t try to hide it, or he thought I was really stupid. I do give him credit for his ability to use and manipulate me though. Over the years he had borrowed money he never paid back, shared his drugs with anyone but me, fed me all sorts of b******t to keep my naive little ass believing. He’d borrow my car to see the other poor wench (made sure I wouldn’t run into them, right?) and, once, told me to meet him at his place when he was seeing her.
It was on this occasion that the gay couple upstairs from his studio apartment confirmed my suspicions and, specifically, who he was seeing. In my negligee. I was livid. I paced his small studio apartment, just seething and wracking my deluded little brain for an effective way to send a message. Then it stuck me as I looked at the single bed in his studio apartment. The single bed that doubled as a couch because it was a studio apartment. The only place to sleep besides the floor in his studio apartment. Clearly, I was going to have trouble sleeping that night so I decided he should, too. I took a pitcher or four of water and soaked the mattress on his bed, making sure there was no dry strip of padding to sleep on. I never heard a word about it.

But we weren’t done yet; he did the “I’m sorry, I was a fool”
routine, telling me he had helped her out of a bad situation but they were only friends. See she moved out of the home of a very well-to-do man, who provided lots of cocaine, in order to carry on a relationship with this man (using the term loosely). She needs a friend, she was abused… Well! I worked for a social service agency and…ah-hem…kindly offered to connect her with services. Just introduce us, I said. I’d be glad to help, I said. And with a sympathetic smile I slowly backed him into a corner, as I was certain she was getting the same lines and responding the same way I did.
Backing him into a choice. So, one fateful, final evening when I was pretty damn sure he had told her about me I made my move. I forget what evidence he provided, but it was convincing, I may have even made sure myself somehow. Well, I screwed his brains out, black bustier and garter included, and told him I would never see him again. He lost it. Pissed that he had told her about me ( and screwed that cocaine connection up) only to have me dump him. It was nice to have confirmation that I had, indeed, screwed up any chance he had of getting her back.

I got in one last shot a few years later. He had started nosing around again, trying to get things started. In a weak moment of fevered delirium I folded. He brought me chicken soup cause I was sick, ran errands for me etc.. Then I got a call at work from a woman I didn’t know. She asked if she could talk to me about Larry. We met that evening and talked for 5 hours. I started smoking again that night. She recited my own story back at me. Charmed by the guy, bought him expensive gifts at the start, paid big bucks to break a lease to move in with him. Larry, his brother and the brother’s wife were renting his mom’s house. But he kept dodging rent and he had started sleeping on the couch, about the same time he started knocking on my door again. The reality of a chronically broke, lying alcoholic in an ever faster downward spiral was becoming clear to her. She thanked me and left.

I mean, she really left. A few weeks later I got a call from the brother asking if I had seen Larry. Larry had stolen his brother’s car. Just the call told me how far Larry had sunk that his family was no longer turning a blind eye to his sucking them dry.

And the brother told me that the lovely young lady I had met a few weeks earlier no longer lived with them and no one knew where she was.

Karma. I love it.

Well, RG thanks for letting me revisit some fond memories. I’ll let you know what I do to the husband who asked for a divorce after I supported him through med school. Trashed my careers (yes, plural) for his career. And moved three states away for his ideal job. While I was going through chemotherapy for breast cancer. Packing and unpacking alone. While trying to parent a pissed off ten year old. He thinks he’s doing me a favor to turn me out marginally employable and uninsurable. See, he doesn’t want to disappoint me anymore by being a narcissistic, selfish control junkie. I’ll try to think up something special for him, but I still won’t smear him with peanut butter and drop him off in bear country. It’s gotta be something that isn’t lethal or illegal. I suspect just having to take care of himself after I catered to him for 18 years is a start. But it’s not enough.
Now, he just bought a motorcycle….

Too Nice for My Own Good

Dear Revenge GuyHi, RG. I just found your website, and found it to be highly amusing, and highly educational. But I have a nasty streak that comes out when I am wronged. Let me give you a couple of examples. Years ago, I worked for a company as a driver. The boss, and Iranian, cheated me out of about 6 hours pay on 3 consecutive paychecks, so I decided to quit and get even in the process. Before I quit, I had to go to another city about 300 miles away, on personal business. While I was there, I stopped by a chemical supply house, and bought a gallon of undiluted methyl mercaptan, which is put into natural gas lines so that leaks can be detected. On my last day, after I picked up what was to be my last paycheck, (cheated again!), I took the methyl mercaptan out of my car, and poured the whole gallon all over the garage floor, and left the empty jug inside the garage.. Then I went across the street to the fancy hotel and called the fire department to report a “major gas leak”. Naturally, the FD responded with everything from 3 stations, and began to search for the “leak”. They evacuated every business for 4 city blocks in all directions, including the nice, new fancy hotel. The firefighters discovered where the stench was coming from, and the empty jug, while looking in the garage. The city fined him $15,000, and several of the businesses sued him, too, for lost income. He knew it was me, because I left the jug right next to the door of the car that I used. He even tried to blame me, but I denied everything, and told the police and fire officials that the guy had been cheating me, and that I had quit because of it, and he just wanted a scapegoat. They didn’t buy his denials. What with the fine, the loss of his business license, and the multiple lawsuits, he was forced out of business. I saw him about a year later, selling hot dogs from a cart on a downtown corner, and made sure to wave at him as I went by. I have a neighbor, a real jerk, who drive a POS old Nissan with a loud, :beer-barrel” muffler, and a stereo system that is worth 5 times what the car is worth. He always comes in from clubbing at 2:30am with the stereo blasted right along with the loud muffler. And he treats that POS like it’s a Ferrari. Anyone goes near it, and he becomes completely hysterical, screaming and hollering. Two months ago, I went for a walk with my wife, and as we passed by the end of his driveway, walking in the street, about 10 feet from his car, he comes out of the house with a baseball bat in hand, threatening to hurt us because we were “too close” to his car. He knows that I have a concealed carry permit, and I told him that he would be wise to go back into his house before we found out which of us had the more effective weapon. He did, and we went on our way. By the time we got back to our house, the police were there, and he was claiming that I drew my pistol, and said that I was going to kill him. That would have been a neat trick, since I didn’t have it on me at the time, and several neighbors told the cops that he was lying. They didn’t arrest him for making a false report, because he hadn’t signed it. Dammit! Anyway, for the next few days he started acting more and more irrational, not just towards me and my wife, but to most of the other neighbors, too. So, I decided to do something about him, and his damned loud car. One night about 3-4 weeks after this, his garage door broke, and wouldn’t open, forcing him to leave his car in the driveway all night. In a stroke of inspiration, I hopped into my car, went down to the all-night car parts store, and bought a bunch of mag wheel weights. These are the kind with the peel-and-stick tape to attach them to mags without damaging the wheels. I snuck over and put about four ounces of weights on the inside of both of the front rims. The next morning, when I heard him start up to go someplace, I went out and sat down on the front porch to watch the fun. When he got up to about 20mph, you could actually see the front wheels bounce, shimmy, and shake. He slammed on the brakes, got out, looked at the car, got back in, and took off again. A couple of minutes later, he comes creeping back home at about 15mph, with his stereo off! I guess he wanted to see if he could figure out what was wrong by listening. A little while later, a wrecker shows up, and hauls his car off to the repair shop. Late Friday afternoon, he comes driving home. At about 15mph. The shop had completely rebuilt the front end, but never checked the tires. He was livid! And since he ran over a curb on the way home, the shop voided the warrantee for the repair work! A tire shop finally figured out what happened, removed the weights, and he was driving again. I think that he suspects it was me that did it but has no proof. About a month later, I saw his car at a mall, and decided to silence his noisy muffler for him. I parked quite a distance away, and since I had just stopped by the grocery store to pick up a few things, I happened to have some nice, big, baking potatoes with me. But I went Eddie Murphy one better. I coated the tater with fast drying epoxy resin just before I inserted it into his tail pipe. Then I go back to my car, and drive home. Sure enough, here he comes, with his car on the back of a wrecker. A couple of days later, he has his car back, with a nice, quiet, factory type muffler on it. And he doesn’t play his stereo so loudly in the neighborhood anymore. In fact, he hardly opens his door anymore. He’s finally become a “good” neighbor! I’ve done some others, and I’ll share them with you another time, but I thought that you might enjoy these little stories about revenge.

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